Escaping Fate
by MoonytheMarauder1
Summary: A collection of Marauder era drabbles
1. Fate

**A/N: Hey y'all! Some Sirius for you.**

**Word Count: 335**

**Enjoy!**

Sirius kicked at the ground glumly, waiting for the headmaster to enter the office again. He always hated this bit, the waiting while McGonagall tattled on him. There were too many people watching him.

Portraits were unpleasant things.

Sirius' charcoal grey eyes scanned odd bits and scraps of metal on Dumbledore's desk. It wasn't because he was interested in any way; it was because he wanted to avoid making eye contact with a certain relative of his.

"Sirius. Back again, I see."

Ah. That hadn't been much use, then.

Sirius looked up at his however-many-greats grandfather and glared at him defiantly. "What?" he challenged.

Some of the other portraits in the room looked at either Phineas Nigellus or Sirius warningly. This ensuing argument was one Sirius had had often with his grandfather, and he was sure they were as tired of it as he was.

Phineas pinched his lips together, ignoring the warnings of his peers. "You are a disappointment to the Black family," he hissed. "You make a mockery of your upbringing."

Sirius laughed, a sound much too bitter for a sixteen-year-old. "They aren't my family anymore. _You _aren't my family anymore."

Phineas huffed. "As long as you carry Black blood, you are a part of this family," he chided. "Act like it. There will come a day when you will regret this foolish nonsense. You are not an idiot."

Sirius stood angrily and stormed over to the portrait until he was nose to nose with the old man. "You're right, I'm not. Which means that I'm not fool enough to associate with the lot of you."

Phineas looked at him disgustedly, and Sirius hated how small it made him feel, even after being on the receiving end of it for so long. "You cannot escape your fate, boy."

The door opened, then, and Sirius glanced back to see Dumbledore watching them with a frown on his face.

Sirius went back to his seat. "Maybe not," he hissed, "but I can damn sure try."


	2. The Future

**A/N: Hey y'all! Some angsty Remus**

**Word Count: 344**

**Enjoy!**

Remus sighed as he scrubbed the many plaques in the trophy room, his arms aching after hours of cleaning. He was serving this detention alone, and he wasn't too thrilled about it. Writing lines would've been easier, and he envied James and Peter. Sirius was helping Madam Pomphrey sort through potions, which was only slightly more tedious.

Needless to say, Remus had drawn the short stick.

Groaning, Remus got to his feet. The full moon was approaching, making his joints ache terribly. He walked over to a trophy with a slight limp, then picked it up to polish it. He was careful not to fumble with it as he cleaned, not wanting to face Filch's wrath. He didn't like being in the trophy room and would hate to be forced to come back.

The truth was, Remus hated everyone who'd won an award for the school. Some of the trophies had been issues for trivial things, in his opinion; it was a terrible reminder to Remus that no matter how well he performed, he would never be recognized for it.

The Head Boy position was out of reach. A job at the Ministry was out of reach. The best he could hope for was a low-paying job in a position he was overqualified for.

...Obviously, he'd recently had a career conference with McGonagall.

Remus closed his eyes and sighed, slinging the rag he was using over his shoulder. It left stains on his olive green shirt, but he didn't much care and wiped his fingers off on it, too. The trophies had been polished enough—he needed to get out this room before his insecurities and bitterness overwhelmed him.

Remus took a deep breath before exiting. He had many talents, and it was only a matter of time before someone recognized his worth. He'd gotten the gift of an education, after all.

Still, the rest of the world wasn't Albus Dumbledore. Remus couldn't fool himself into thinking that there wouldn't be obstacles.

Unwilling to let himself dwell on such depressing notions, Remus left the room.


	3. Potential

**A/N: Hey y'all! Some Sybil Trelawney for you. **

**Word Count: 341**

**Enjoy!**

Sybil smoothed down her lime-green robes, trying not to make eye-contact with anyone. She was trying so hard to be like her grandmother and pacify the older woman, who seemed convinced that Sybil possessed the gift of Sight. But here, among other individuals who claimed to have it, she wasn't so sure she fit in.

There was someone in the corner reading people's tea leaves, another across the room running her fingers over someone's palm. Crystal balls were scattered about the room, men and women were comparing prophecies—and Sybil was standing by the door to the loo.

She took and deep breath and drew herself up to her full height. She was the granddaughter of Cassandra, one of the greatest Seers of all time. She would _not _ shy away from these people.

Against all sense and better judgement, Sybil made her way forward and did what she did best when confronted about her Gift.

She lied through her teeth.

"True Sight," she found herself saying to a girl only a few years younger than she was, "is not for trivial matters. It is a sacred Gift, and I treat it as such. It comes to me when it needs to; I do not chase after it."

The girl, who'd asked for her fortune to be told, looked at her with such wide-eyes awe that Sybil preened.

During the rest of the convention, Sybil kept up her act. And though she received many skeptical looks, she gained quite a bit of credit in many minds ("There will always be non-believers," she told one girl. "The trick is to learn that they lack the open-mindedness needed to truly See.").

Sybil Trelawney may be a fraud, but she was a convincing one. Because deep within her mind, so far hidden that she was barely conscious of it herself, there was a real glimmer of truth. She possessed Sight, and even if she couldn't control it—and indeed, had no memory of its occurrences—it was a very powerful Gift.

The world would discover that soon enough.


	4. Falling

**A/N: Hey y'all! This was written for Hogwarts. **

**Word Count: 587**

**Enjoy!**

Alice watched the snow begin to fall as she sat beside the lake, which was already frozen over. She pulled her woolen hat down over her ears so it nearly completely covered her short, dark hair. Across the grounds, two boys in Slytherin robes were sitting on a blanket and talking; Alice's brown eyes were fixed on them.

Regulus Black and Barty Crouch Jr. Part of her wondered if she'd been imagining the smirks and winks they'd been sending her way, but a larger part of her didn't quite care; it was nice to feel appreciated.

Alice sat beneath a nearby tree, shivering slightly when the wind picked up. She longed to run to the boys, to boldly ask if they were planning on asking her to Hogsmeade any time soon, or if they were just going to flash her smiles for the rest of their lives.

But she wasn't quite ready for that, yet.

Alice sighed and rubbed her nose, which was quickly reddening from the cold. The snow was gathering about her feet, and she scooped up a handful and let it run through her fingers. The sting of the cold was, she suspected, not nearly as painful as the sting of rejection could be if she ever did find the courage to confront the Slytherins.

Alice had always danced to her own tune and sang to her own melody, but when it came to those two… she always felt like she was just a bit too… much.

It wasn't a good feeling.

Unable to stand being left to that depressing thought, Alice slid down the bank to the lake. She set her feet on the ice and simply rested there, letting the cold reresh her. She needed the peace and serenity that came with winter—not only that, she craved it. Anything to stop the aching in her heart.

"Might I sit down? Or would you rather have the lake to yourself?"

Alice looked up, ripped from her thoughts, and turned to see Barty Crouch Jr. grinning at her, his green eyes sparkling brightly. "I quite liked the company I was keeping, but go on," Alice said, raising a brow cheekily. Maybe it was too much, but sarcasm was something she automatically fell back on.

Unbothered, Barty plopped himself down. His sandy-blond hair was uncovered and blowing every which way in the wind—it was an attractive sight. He seemed to sense her thoughts, because he looked over and shot her a knowing look.

Alice's flush was hidden by the cold. "What do you want?" she asked quietly.

Barty tilted his head to the side, letting stray snowflakes hit his cheeks. "I want you to stop worrying so much and come join us. We know you want to."

Ignoring the way her heart was thudding in her chest, Alice raised a brow. "Oh?"

A hand settled on her shoulder, and then Regulus Black was lowering himself to her other side. His grey eyes sparkled as he surveyed her. "Yes. We're not completely oblivious, you know." He paused, lifting a single brow. "Will you accept our invitation?"

Alice bit her lip and looked at her feet. "I…"

A warm hand encased hers, and Alice watched as Regulus dropped a single kiss to the back of her hand. "You won't regret it," he murmured against her skin.

Her mouth suddenly dry, Alice nodded. The responding grins she received washed away the rest of her doubt, and she finally allowed herself to be led away back to the castle.


	5. Help

**A/N: Hey y'all! This was written for Hogwarts. Some Remus&Peter friendship :)**

**Word Count: 776**

**WARNINGS: Mild bullying**

**Enjoy!**

Peter stared in dismay at the inkwell that had just been tipped over onto his essay—the essay he'd spent three hours perfecting. His blue eyes pricked with tears that he tried desperately not to show to his tormentors. It wasn't usually so easy to make him cry—honestly!—but his first week at Hogwarts had been a living nightmare.

He just wanted a break from the relentless bullying, the stress, the humiliation… he just wanted to go home. It was a wish that made his face burn with shame, but he wished it anyway. Even his mother's disappointment would be better than this.

"Going to cry, Pettigrew?" Evan Rosier was a fourth year _bastard_, Peter decided viciously. "Don't worry—I'm sure you can whip up another essay before class… When did Severus say it was due? Tomorrow?" His pig-like eyes narrowed in on Peter maliciously. "Maybe not, then, since it took you half a year to write the first one!"

Peter didn't bother pointing out the faulty logic in the statement, instead cursing Severus Snape for always being in the library when he was trying to trudge through his homework assignments. He was fairly certain Snape only watched him closely because he shared a room with James Potter and Sirius Black, but since Peter wasn't friends with either of them, it seemed a wasteful pastime to him.

But Rosier was right in thinking that any essay Peter attempted to write now wouldn't be anywhere near as good as the first.

He raised his blue eyes up from his mess of a homework assignment to glare at the older boy; he was a Gryffindor—he had _some_ courage. "That's not funny."

Rosier seemed to think the opposite, if his laughter was anything to go by. He'd just opened his mouth to retaliate when someone dropped a bunch of books on the table Peter was sitting at.

Startled, he looked over to see a boy in a too-large jumper with wide amber eyes raising an impressive eyebrow at the Slytherin.

"Hullo, Rosier," Remus said softly. He looked a bit pale, but his expression was utterly calm. "Did you need something?"

Rosier sneered at them both. He could definitely outduel them, but Remus had already built a name for himself as having an aptitude for Defense Against the Dark Arts. If Rosier engaged with him, Peter could easily run to get a teacher.

The Slytherin decided it wasn't worth the effort. "Just checking on your friend," he lied. His dark eyes landed back on Peter. "He seems to have ruined his essay." With those words, Rosier exited the library.

Peter let out a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Remus," he murmured. He didn't know his roommate very well, but they were on friendly terms and partnered in class from time to time.

Remus nodded and sent Peter a small smile. He pointed to the ruined essay. "Charms?"

Peter ignored the dull ache in his chest when he was reminded of all the work he'd have to redo. "Yeah."

Remus pulled out a chair and looked carefully at the parchment. He pulled out his wand and turned a scarred face to Peter. "Can I try…?"

Peter shrugged. "It can't get any worse," he said, waving a hand to give Remus permission to go ahead.

Remus bit his lip and furrowed his brow as he waved his wand over the mess of ink and paper. A moment later, all the excess ink disappeared, returning the essay to its former glory.

Peter immediately brightened. "Merlin, that's brilliant! Thank you!"

Remus grinned, a bit embarrassed. "I've had to use it a few times myself," he admitted.

It was a small comfort. Peter ran a hand through his blond hair, taking in the other Gryffindor curiously. "Why are you being so nice to me?" he asked after a moment. Remus looked at him with surprise, and he hastened to add, "I mean, I appreciate it, but usually people... aren't."

Remus' face flushed. "Well… we're friends, and that's what friends do. Er… aren't we?"

"Yes," Peter answered eagerly. He hadn't thought the other boy considered him as such, and his relief at this piece of information was palpable. "Yes, we are. Of course we are." Peter grinned sheepishly.

The two first years smiled awkwardly at each other, but relief was present in each of their gazes. Neither really fit with the other students, so to have someone to depend on… it meant more than Peter could express.

Eventually, Remus cleared his throat. "Er… do you think you could help me with the potions essay?"

Peter grinned widely. "Yeah, of course I can."


	6. Alone

**A/N: Hey y'all! This was written for Hogwarts. **

**Word Count: 560**

**WARNINGS: Some language, some drinking**

**Enjoy!**

Mundungus ran a hand over his face as he looked around the room. He hadn't shaved recently, so the stubble scratched across his palm. It was a mild annoyance, though. There was nothing mild about the atmosphere.

Dorcas Meadowes, dead. Dung hadn't known her well, but those kids over there had. He still thought it was ridiculous to ask a bunch of eighteen-year-olds fresh out of Hogwarts to serve, but things were getting desperate, weren't they?

Dung approached the corner of the room where Lupin was standing alone. He looked lost, his scarred face pale and his amber eyes wide. The Potters and Black were some distance away, discussing something in soft whispers. Pettigrew was speaking with Marlene McKinnon. Everyone else had similarly paired off… except for Lupin. Dung supposed it was only right to check on him.

"You look lonely."

Remus started when he heard his voice, looking over with reflexes fast enough to make even Moody proud. He relaxed when he saw Mundungus. "I'm alone," the Gryffindor protested quietly. "There's a difference."

Dung raised a brow. "Sorry, mate, but you're not foolin' me." He took a long drag from the flask at his hip, then offered it to Remus. "Drink? Always helps with sorrow, I say."

He didn't expect Lupin to take it, but to his surprise, the boy didn't hesitate. He took a large swallow, hardly wincing when it slid down his throat. Dung was almost impressed.

"You don't normally stay after meetings," Remus observed after a moment of silence.

Dung shrugged. "I don't usually hear about people I know dying. And 'sides, it's not much use to mourn alone." He eyed Remus sideways. "You don't have to pretend you don't miss her."

Remus inhaled shakily, his amber eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I'm not pretending. I miss her a lot… I'll miss all of them."

Dung took another drink, then handed the flask to Remus. "Keep it," he said, with only a little regret. "So, something else is bothering you, then?"

Remus' grip tightened on the flask. "I just…" He was looking straight at the Potters. "It could have been any of them. And I would have been powerless to help." Dung didn't respond, recognizing Remus' need to talk. "I want to be able to wave my wand, say 'abracadabra,' and protect them all, but…" He took a sip of the alcohol. "I can't do that, can I?"

"No," Dung murmured hollowly. "Sometimes, you can't do shit."

"You can't do shit," Remus repeated. He looked older than he should have, like he was approaching forty instead of twenty. Wars were hard, Dung knew. There was nothing anyone could do about that.

Then a thought flitted through his mind: would Lupin make it out, or would Dung have to bury him, too?

He took the flask back from Remus, took three large swallows, then handed it back. Anything to keep those morbid thoughts at bay. He took one last glance at Remus, though, before deciding to take the kid under his wing. He knew what it was to be alone, after all.

"Come on, mate. Let's go grab a pint. I'll buy."

Taken off guard, Remus just blinked at him for a moment. Eventually, he nodded. "Thanks."

Mundungus sighed deeply. _Don't thank me yet,_ he wanted to say. Instead, he clapped Remus on the shoulder. "Sure thing."


	7. Reaching

**A/N: Hey y'all! This was written for Hogwarts. NarcissaRodolphus. :)**

**Word Count: 499**

**WARNINGS: Emotional infidelity, arranged marriage**

**Enjoy!**

Narcissa hurried from the room, her heart beating wildly as she tried to fight down her distress. She ran into the bedroom and shut the door behind her, softly instead of the way she wanted to slam it; she was upset, but things would only be worse if the other occupants of the house knew it.

She should have known, though, that there was one man she couldn't fool.

"Narcissa." Rodolphus entered the room quietly, his black eyes boring into her. "I know what you're thinking, you know. This isn't as awful as you may think."

Closing her eyes, Narcissa gripped the back of a chair until her knuckles turned white. Her back was to Rodolphus, but it was so easy to picture the hesitation in his eyes, the premature lines on his face… "Don't tell me what I think," she said in a rough voice. "You have no idea what goes on in my mind."

"You're right," Rodolphus agreed easily. "I don't." He walked over and set a tentative hand on her shoulder. She flinched, but she didn't pull away. "Entering into his service… it was the only way, Narcissa."

"There is always more than one way," she argued, tears pricking her eyes. Now that Rodolphus bore the Mark, he could never truly be free of it—he'd have to fight this war until he died or was imprisoned. Either way, Narcissa would lose him.

Rodolphus fell silent. Eventually, he spoke, his voice harder than before. "You didn't seem to think that when you were marrying Lucius Malfoy."

Narcissa rounded on the man, her eyes blazing. "You were already wed to Bellatrix!" she hissed. "What was I supposed to do—remain a maid forever, just so you wouldn't have to feel the pain of seeing me with another man?" Rodolphus looked away guiltily. Narcissa laughed sardonically. "I will never love that arrogant fool," she whispered, more calmly this time. "But at least I have someone to warm my bed. That's something you could never give me."

"If I was free to," Rodolphus argued in a strangled voice, "I would. You know I would."

Narcissa looked away. "But you can't."

The older man sighed heavily, sounding as though the weight of the world was on his shoulders. "You're right. I can't."

Narcissa looked miserably at the man in front of her. He had her heart, but not her hand. They were destined to love from afar, never acting on their desires out of respect of their spouses. But now… now she might even lose what little relationship she had with her sister's husband.

"Be safe," she begged suddenly. "Please, just… come back. Promise me you'll always come back."

For a moment, she feared that Rodolphus wouldn't respond. Eventually, though, he took her hand in his, using his free one to wipe away the tears she wasn't aware had fallen.

"I promise I'll try my best to."

It was all he could give, and she had no choice but to take it.


	8. Limited

**A/N: Hey y'all! Some quick Lily&Severus friendship with a touch of angst.**

**Word Count: 328**

**Enjoy!**

Severus closed his eyes as Lily's laughter washed over him. The stress of the holidays, during which he'd been forced to return home, seemed to vanish in Lily's presence. He looked over at her, a small smile gracing his normally stoic face.

"How was your Christmas?" he asked her quietly.

Her green eyes immediately rolled up to the sky. "Oh, Sev, Petunia was absolutely horrible, as usual. She brought that abhorrent fiancé of hers—Vernon something or other. He really is a big."

Severus smiled ruefully. "You won't have to stick around long, though."

Lily hummed in agreement. She was smiling softly at him, and he was glad that they had the train compartment to themselves; no one was around to ruin this perfect conversation. Lily ran her pale fingers through her fiery red hair, and Severus took a moment to appreciate her simple beauty. She was perfect, inside and out.

Even more strange, she somehow thought that he was worth her time. She _liked_ him. Not even his own father liked him.

"How was your holiday, then, Sev?"

Severus' smile immediately diminished. "It was fine," he said, looking down at his lap. "Mother was happy to see me."

Lily's smile was bright as she tactfully refrained from inquiring about his father. "I love your Mum," she said with a soft sigh. "She's so lovely."

Indeed, Eileen Snape was very friendly towards Lily Evans. She thought the girl was very clever, and didn't mind at all that she was Muggleborn. Unfortunately, it was an obstacle Severus often faced with his peers.

He shook his head at the thought. He didn't want to focus on all the negative aspects of his friendship with Lily right now; he wanted to enjoy it like the gift it was.

So he turned back to Lily with a smile on his face and tried not to count down the seconds until he was no longer permitted to be her friend.

"Thank you," he said.


	9. Christmas Cheer

**A/N: Hey y'all! Some fuffy, plotless Wolfstar banter. :)**

**Word Count: 347**

**Enjoy!**

Remus looked up at the offending plant, and then back at Sirius, whose grin was positively evil. His amber eyes narrowed.

"Mistletoe?" he said. "Really?"

Sirius spread his hands out to the side. "Happy Christmas, Moony."

Remus pinched the bridge of his nose. "Padfoot… you've purposefully stuck us under the magical mistletoe."

Sirius' bright smile dimmed. "Er, yeah."

Remus could feel a headache coming on. "We can't move unless we kiss," he pointed out.

"I'm aware. That's generally how this works, you know."

"_You could have just asked for a snog_."

Sirius grasped Remus' shoulders, his enthusiasm returned. "Where's the fun in that?" His grey eyes took in Remus—stiffly crossed arms, angrily flushed face, too-straight back, and all. "Pucker up, love. I've charmed it to only let us out after a proper snog."

Remus' eyes widened. "Sirius Black," he hissed, "we are in the middle of the common room."

Indeed they were, and they were lucky no one had caught on to their conversation quite yet. Remus was quite comfortable being out to his peers, but that didn't mean he wanted to subject them all to the more… _private_ aspects of their relationship.

He closed his eyes. "There are first years here, Padfoot."

Sirius' grin was wicked. "It'll be educational, then. They'll thank us for it one day."

Remus, very suddenly, developed an urge to wipe that smirk off of Sirius' face through any means necessary. He swallowed thickly, his mouth dry. "You're incorrigible," he tried futilely.

Sirius pecked him on the end of the nose, making Remus blush up to the roots of his hair. Sirius watched the reaction delightedly. "I know. But you love me anyway."

Remus sighed, finally giving in. "I do," he admitted. "Merlin knows why, but I do."

Sirius winked playfully at him. "Ready then, gorgeous?"

In response, Remus grabbed his face and pressed their lips together. If word got out to McGonagall, they'd get a detention for sure, but… well. It would definitely be an educational event. When Sirius' fingers dug into his hair, Remus considered it well worth the risk.


	10. Told You So

**A/N: Hey, y'all! Just a quick little Wolfstar drabble. :)**

**Word Count: 625**

**Enjoy!**

"You could just tell him," Peter suggested tiredly as he and Remus boarded the Hogwarts Express. "You've liked Sirius for—what—three years now? It's time to just tell him. At least then you'll know, and then you can move on."

Remus adjusted his bag on his shoulder. "I dunno," he muttered. "It's just… I'm not good at telling secrets, Wormtail, you know that. What if he thinks it's—I dunno—an opportunity to stroke his ego?"

Peter shrugged. "Well, he might. You fell in love with _Sirius Black_, the most egotistical, dramatic bastard on the planet."

Rolling his amber eyes, Remus said wryly, "Thanks, Wormtail."

"But he _does _care about you," Peter continued with a small smile. "Really, Moony, you're just getting in your own way. Padfoot isn't going to hate you. The worst thing that could happen is that he'll turn you down."

The two Marauders searched for an empty compartment as Remus pondered this in silence. They were beginning their seventh year at Hogwarts, and the future outside of school was uncertain. Still, Remus just couldn't shake the feeling that his confession would go terribly wrong.

Once they were safely alone in their own compartment, Peter turned back to Remus. His blue eyes held nothing but kindness, and Remus felt a rush of gratitude for his closest friend. "Remus. You've dated men before, in an effort to get over these feelings, right?"

Remus squirmed in his seat, remembering the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain who'd been just a little too excited about Quidditch maneuvers, the Hufflepuff in his study group who was just a bit too shy, the Slytherin who'd had a tendency to play everything safe… "Er, yeah."

"So you have experience."

Startled, Remus blinked. "I guess so?"

"Your past relationships haven't all been terrible."

"Well, no." There had certainly been men that Remus enjoyed being with, but ultimately decided just weren't right for him romantically, or because he had stronger feelings for Sirius. "What's your point?"

Peter leaned back in his seat. "There have been plenty of people who have been interested in you, and plenty of people you've been interested in. It's not Sirius Black or nothing. You're fully capable of moving on—just now, if he turns you down, you won't have that _what if_ in the back of your mind."

And Peter had a point. Remus ran a hand over his jaw, considering. "What… what am I supposed to say?"

"What do you mean?"

Remus laughed humorlessly, hardly able to believe that he was even entertaining this possibility. "Wormtail, I can't just—I can't just go up to him and say, 'Hey, Pads, did you know I'm in love with you?'"

"Why, Moony, I didn't know you cared."

The blood drained from Remus' face as he whirled around to face the door to their compartment. There stood James, looking incredibly guilty at having intruded on such a moment, and Sirius, grinning like Christmas had come early. His grey eyes were fixed on Remus, and he just. Couldn't. Move.

After years of arriving to the platform seconds before the train departed, they chose _now_ to be punctual.

After eternity had passed—although in actuality it was only a few moments—James cleared his throat. "Pads. You should probably give him a little more to go off of, mate."

It was the most mortified Remus had ever been.

"Oh, right. Moons" —Sirius stepped fully into the compartment and stopped in front of Remus— "you're redder than I've ever seen you."

"Bloody hell," Remus heard Peter mutter.

Before Remus could react, though, Sirius cupped his jaw with each of his hands. "I've been wanting to hear you say those words for years," he whispered in a low voice.

And before Remus could understand what was happening, Sirius was kissing him.

Remus closed his eyes. Distantly, he heard Peter say, "I told you so," to James. Money was exchanged.

Remus didn't care. He tangled his fingers in the other man's thick, black hair and pulled him closer.


	11. Sail Away

**A/N: Hey, y'all! Enjoy some DorcasMarlene, set before their seventh year.**

**Word Count: 516**

**Enjoy!**

The salty spray of the sea stung Dorcas' cheeks, but she stared persistently at the horizon. Behind her on the boat, Marlene was shivering in the early morning air despite the olive green jumper underneath her usual leather jacket. As beautiful as Marlene looked as he long, dark curls were blown over her shoulder by the wind, Dorcas tried to concentrate on the matter at hand.

"You know I can't just watch the war unfold," she told her girlfriend. She kept her black-eyed gaze carefully away from Marlene. "As soon as we graduate, I'm going to fight."

Marlene stayed silent for several seconds. Dorcas didn't look back to see her reaction; she just stared straight ahead.

She knew what Marlene would be thinking. Was this their last summer out on the sea together? Was the next school year going to be their last?

Would Dorcas even make it a week on the front lines, in open battle?

But the question Marlene voiced wasn't one Dorcas had anticipated.

"Is this… is this goodbye? Because I swear to Merlin, Meadowes, this isn't the way you break up with a girl."

"No!" Dorcas turned around suddenly, alarmed. "No. It doesn't have to be like that." She dragged her hands through her short, dark curls and wished that the boat they were sailing on was bigger—it was suddenly difficult to breathe. "I'm just trying to let you know what to expect. If you… if you think that would be too difficult…"

Marlene shook her head. "I don't know," she admitted. "But I don't want to say goodbye."

"Oh." Relief flooded Dorcas, and she sent Marlene a small smile. "Neither do I."

Both girls were silent as they watched the sun peek over the horizon. The sky was painted with pinks, purples, and oranges; it was a glorious sunrise. But Dorcas couldn't help but wonder what new era was dawning.

"I'll do it with you."

Marlene's voice cut through the quiet, startling Dorcas. She turned to see her girlfriend staring at her determinedly, not a hint of fear in her eyes. Dorcas' chest tightened.

"You what?"

"I'll fight with you," Marlene repeated. "What do you expect me to do—sit in our flat while you're out risking your life?" She shook her head. "Sorry, love, but that isn't my style. If you're going to join the war, you're not leaving me behind."

Dorcas bit her lip, overcome with a confusing blend of emotions—she was relieved, yes, but also worried. Their future was an uncertain one; it would be dangerous. But when Dorcas watched Marlene, so full of fire and passion, the beginnings of hope stirred in her chest.

She swallowed thickly. "I love you," she murmured.

Marlene stepped forward and placed a hand on Dorcas' dark cheek. "And I love you, mi amor. Now, can we…" She gestured at the open sea, which they had yet to fully explore. "One last time?"

Dorcas grinned and dropped a kiss to Marlene's lips. She reached for the sails, preparing to take Marlene on what could be their last carefree morning together.

"Hold on tight."

**A/N:**

**Godric Says: 1. "Can we… one last time?"**

**Herbology: Individual: (word) glorious**

**Fortnightly: Pride Booth: 2. Write about a fem character who is gay.**

**Fortnightly: Unfortunate Escapes: The Wide Window: (plot point) sailing a boat**

**Capture the Flag: 14. (color) olive green**

**Triple Threat: "It doesn't have to be like that."**

**366: 55. Concentrate**

**Insane: 806. (restriction) no characters over 18**


	12. Out of the Shadows

**A/N: Hey y'all! Have some Black family angst. :P**

**Word Count: 731**

**WARNINGS: Implied emotional abuse**

**Enjoy!**

Regulus pressed his ear against the keyhole of Sirius' bedroom door. The sound was muffled, but he could hear his older brother's crying.

Biting his lip, Regulus stared at the door. He felt completely useless; how many times had Sirius comforted him after a nightmare? How many times had he taken the fall for Regulus? And now, when Sirius was the one who needed comfort, all Regulus could do was listen quietly from the hallway.

He was too afraid of his parents' wrath to go inside. He could only imagine how Sirius must feel—sorted into Gryffindor, of all houses! No Black had ever been placed outside of Slytherin. It was unheard of. It was _shameful_.

The winter holidays wouldn't be pleasant for Sirius.

"You can't help him, Regulus."

The younger Black jumped, guiltily turning around to face his father. There was no mistaking Orion Black as Regulus and Sirius' father; all three had the same long black hair and dark grey eyes. The difference between Orion and his eldest son, however, was that Sirius' eyes held a warmth and fire rarely seen in a Black; Orion's eyes were dead.

Regulus' were somewhere in between.

"I—I know, Father," he mumbled, hoping desperately that Sirius couldn't hear their conversation. "I only… felt sorry for him." The last words were admitted in a whisper.

To his surprise, Orion just placed a hand on his youngest son's shoulder. "Come with me," he said gently, and Regulus stood up and followed.

Orion led him to his office. Regulus hesitated in the doorway; this was where his father doled out their punishments, and a part of Regulus was terrified to go in, even though he couldn't remember misbehaving.

Unless showing Sirius pity counted as misbehaving, now.

Orion sat behind his desk and beckoned Regulus inside. Gulping, Regulus obeyed. He kept his gaze on the floor, his small, nine-year-old frame struggling not to tremble under his father's scrutiny.

"Regulus," Orion began in a low, calm voice, "do you know why you're here?"

He inhaled shakily. "No, sir."

Orion steepled his fingers. "Your brother has always been… on the wild side. He isn't as focused as you, Regulus. He is less disciplined, less polite. Less respectful of the traditions and values our family has upheld for centuries."

Regulus' breathing was shallow. He wasn't sure where his father was going with this, but he nodded his head just the same. He prayed that he wouldn't have to be involved in whatever punishment his parents had planned for his brother.

"Your mother and I are going to do our best to curb this behavior immediately," Orion continued. "However… in the event that Sirius continues to _misbehave_, you, Regulus, will need to be prepared to take his place as heir."

His eyes widening, Regulus' gaze snapped up to meet his father's. Take Sirius' place as heir? The thought was… it was thrilling.

All of his life, he'd been the unnecessary child. Wanted, of course, and cared for, but never given the same attention Sirius was. Never fawned over by other families, never held to the same expectations, despite the fact that he fulfilled them better than his brother did. And he'd always known that the respect people held for him would never come close to the respect they had for Sirius.

But all of that… all of that could change.

"Heir, Father?" He hated himself just a little bit for sounding so eager; how would this make Sirius feel? But this was everything he'd ever wanted.

Everything Sirius had ever taken for granted.

Orion seemed pleased by his enthusiasm. "Heir," he confirmed. "I'll be increasing your studies here at home. We'll have you prepared for Hogwarts in no time; you've always been a fast learner. And who knows—this may be the incentive Sirius needs to take his rightful place. He always did love some competition."

Some of Regulus' happiness dimmed when he heard that his father was still banking on Sirius as heir, but he wouldn't let that stop him from making his father proud.

He'd be the best son his parents could hope for—and maybe Sirius wouldn't even mind. Maybe he'd be happy that he was unburdened from these expectations and would be glad that Regulus was finally in the spotlight.

He bowed his head. "I won't let you down, Father," he vowed.

Orion smiled. "See to it that you don't."


	13. Who We Choose

**A/N: Hey, y'all! Have a little RemusNarcissa. I may rewrite this later and make it longer, but for now… **

**Word Count: 689**

**Enjoy!**

Remus ran his fingers through Fang's short black fur, a small smile on his face as he listened to the boarhound's noises of contentment. Hagrid was out in the Forbidden Forest, doing who-knew-what; Remus was only there to keep Fang company. He and the dog had become good friends over the years, largely due to the frequent visits Remus paid the gamekeeper.

"You're a good boy, aren't you?" Remus cooed, his amber eyes soft. "Aren't you?"

"Why are you talking to it?"

Remus looked up from Fang, whose massive head was in his lap, only to see Narcissa Black regarding him curiously. Remus blinked up at her, then swallowed thickly. He didn't see the point in lying to her, so he cleared his throat, trying to be embarrassed at being caught.

"I don't want him to be lonely," he told her with a small shrug. Then Remus narrowed his eyes at her; Narcissa Black _never_ spoke to him, and if she did, she definitely wouldn't be polite about it. "What do you want?" he asked her warily.

She hesitated. Slowly, the Slytherin lowered herself until she was sitting beside Remus in the pumpkin patch by Hagrid's house. Her blonde hair fell over her shoulders, and her head was tilted just enough that her face was cast in shadow.

"Nothing," she told him quietly. Then she glanced up at Remus, and he remembered why the Blacks were so dangerous when his heart began pounding. "Could I pet him?"

Startled, all Remus could do was nod. Narcissa reached out very slowly—almost reluctantly—and let her fingers brush against the top of Fang's head. The dog let out a little snort, but otherwise didn't react; he kept his head firmly in Remus' lap.

Remus carefully repressed the amused smile that threatened to break out over his features. "You don't seem fond of him," he observed.

Narcissa's eyes widened. "Well, I—he's yours, isn't he?"

"No," Remus told her, wondering what that had to do with anything. "He's Hagrid's. I'm only watching him."

"Ah." Narcissa retracted her hand, looking like she was at a loss as to what to say. "I see. How… kind of you."

He just dipped his head in response. He avoided looking Narcissa straight in the eyes, afraid that he'd start stuttering or turn red—or both. He ran a hand nervously through his tawny curls, trying to figure out why Narcissa was here with him.

Suddenly, there was a gentle tugging on his hair. Remus looked up, startled, to see a wide-eyed Narcissa pulling a leaf from his hair.

At his questioning look, Narcissa set her jaw with determination. She straightened her spine and said, "My sister is getting ready to marry a Mud—a Muggleborn."

Remus frowned at her. "I know," he said slowly, "Sirius told me. She was disowned for it, wasn't she?"

"Yes," admitted Narcissa. "But she also seems… happier." Her gaze dropped to the ground. "My cousin… seems happier."

He knew she was talking about Sirius. And Remus was beginning to understand what this was about; hope flared in his chest, even as he tried to tamp it down. Sirius spoke in the same backwards manner when he was struggling to get his words out, and Remus had learned to read between the lines.

And maybe it was a bad idea, but he wanted what Narcissa seemed willing to give.

"So…" Remus buried his fingers in Fang's fur. "You want to be happy, too?"

Narcissa gave him a tiny nod, almost as though she was amazed at her own daring.

"Would going to Hogsmeade with me this weekend make you happy?"

The Slytherin let out a little laugh of relief. "I think it would," she told him quietly.

Remus wasn't a fool; he understood that this was a colossal decision for Narcissa. She was turning her back on her family's ideals… she was choosing him.

_She was choosing him_.

Remus stretched out a scarred hand and squeezed her shoulder. She didn't have to be afraid; he'd liked her for a long time, too. And he was willing to see where this led him.

Narcissa smiled back at him.


End file.
